


The best present Rosie Watson could ever wish for

by KasyStarchild



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward John, Case, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Greg loves horror movies, I wrote this in class, M/M, Musical References, POV John Watson, Post-Canon, Rosie being adorable, Rosie's birthday, carrie the musical, john is a theatre nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14864705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KasyStarchild/pseuds/KasyStarchild
Summary: Rosie's birthday is coming up and John goes through a lot of trouble to find her the perfect gift, not knowing that Sherlock is already planning on giving her the best present possible.





	The best present Rosie Watson could ever wish for

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote parts of this fic in my creative writing class at Uni. This originally was a free writing exercise that got a bit out of hand.

It was a dark and rainy day in the city of London. John Watson was sprinting down Oxford Street towards Bond Street station, with a newspaper over his head trying to avoid the rain. He had forgotten his umbrella at home, back in Baker Street 221b, so he was trying to reach the tube station as fast and as dry as possible. The reason that he was running around Oxford street on a Saturday morning in the first place, was that last time he was here Rosie had been obsessed with that one obnoxiously expensive stuffed animal from that one particular store whose name John had already forgotten. He had spent all morning trying to find the store again so he could buy the strange-looking creature, which looked like a mixture between a bird, unicorn and mermaid, for his 3-year-old daughter who would turn 4 years old on Monday. Trying not to run into every tourist he passed, John made his way through the crowd of umbrellas, cameras and shopping bags. The only things left on his bucket list were getting party supplies from Party city and remembering to order her the vanilla cake with the marshmallow fondant Tower bridge cake topper which Rosie wanted so desperately since John took her to the small bakery near their apartment for afternoon tea. John planned to take the next Jubilee line train back to Baker Street as soon as he reached the station. It wasn’t far anymore, he could already see the big red tube sign but the street was filled with a see of people, who all didn’t seem to mind the rain and moved in what felt like slow-motion. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, John reached the station, completely soaked. As he pressed his Oystercard against the gate his phone rang. John reached into his pocket and pulled out his, slightly wet, phone. Greg Lestrade was calling him, probably to ruin his plans and send him to some godforsaken crime scene on a Saturday morning, he thought. And he was completely right. Greg was calling to ask him to come to some bar called “Revolution” near Chancery Lane, a body had been found and Scotland yard was clueless as ever. John sighed and assured him that he would take the next Central line train and be right there. Lucky for him, such a train had just entered the station so he would be there in approximately 10 minutes. He just hoped that Sherlock, who he was certain had received the call as well would remember to bring Rosie downstairs to Mrs Hudson, so she wouldn’t be subjected to the emptiness of the apartment for hours while her family was away working a case. Just in case Sherlock had forgotten (again), John called Mrs Hudson if she could check on Rosie and take her downstairs. But to his positive surprise, Rosie was already with her and screamed something about having painted Daddy Sherly in the background. John smiled. He loved when his daughter called his boyfriend her “Dad”. Sherlock loved it too even though he always tried to play it cool, but John knew that on the inside his heart melted whenever she called him “Daddy Sherly”. Now relieved and happy, John put away his phone and unfolded todays newspaper, which was also completely soaked but he started reading it anyway. Just a few minutes later, the train reached Chancery Lane station. John prayed that the rain had stopped by now, since his coat had just started drying again and he would prefer not to get soaked again. It was as if the weather god had heard John’s prayer because as he exited the station the sky had cleared as much as the London sky could clear up in November. The crime scene wasn’t hard to find, since John was able to see the police cars as soon as he stepped out of the station. He hurried towards them and was greeted by Anderson and Donovan, who seemed to be more interested in gossiping, giggling and pointing at John’s soaked appearance then basic human manners. When he entered the bar, it looked like it been hit by a storm. Broken furniture, bottles and plates were scattered on the floor and in the middle of the giant mess laid the body of a young woman, completely covered in blood. Greg and Sherlock where already inspecting the body when John stepped closer and greeted them. Sherlock only acknowledged his partners arrival with a small nod and continued to inspect the body. But John was used to this kind of behaviour, he had never been the kind of guy who greeted a partner with touchy-feely-ness in public anyway. Instead he simply asked if Sherlock had already figured out what happened. 

“Give me five more minutes and I’ll tell you.”, said Sherlock while sticking his finger into the blood and tasting it.

“Jesus Sherlock! What did I tell you about licking corpses?”, John sighed while rolling his eyes. Funnily licking blood of corpses was by far not the most disgusting thing Sherlock had ever done on a crime scene. As a response Sherlock mumbled something John couldn’t quite understand into his scarf.

“Well,” John tried to switch the topic and turned to Greg, “This kinda looks like something straight out of “Carrie”!” 

“Indeed!”, Greg’s face looked delighted, “I didn’t know you watched horror movies, John! Did you know that “Carrie” is my favourite Stephen King novel ever? It’s just pure perfection!”

John just chuckled politely and nodded. He was too embarrassed to admit that he had neither read the book nor seen the movie in his life. He just secretly watched every bootleg of the musical he could find on YouTube. John was always shy when it came to his love for theatre, not that it was a bad thing to love musicals as a grown man but he always felt that people his age just went to the theatre and didn’t research everything they could about a show, wrote letters to the cast and watched bootlegs of shows that weren’t playing in the UK yet or had already closed years ago. 

“HA!” 

The sound of Sherlock’s voice ripped John out of his thoughts and back to reality. Sherlock had solved the case and apparently John had given him his final clue. As it turned out the victim and her boyfriend, the owner of the bar, had been trying to recreate scenes from “Carrie” as a photoshoot, but in reality, her boyfriend had used the photoshoot as an excuse to murder his girlfriend. Very pleased with himself Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and pulled him out of the bar. John was again kind of shocked by Sherlock’s public display of affection but didn’t question his partner and just enjoyed walking hand-in-hand for a while. He reminded Sherlock that they still had to order the cake for Rosie and was more then shocked to hear that Sherlock had already done it. 

“Wow. I can’t believe you thought of the cake! And you’re sure you ordered the vanilla cake with the marshmallow fondant Tower bridge topper?”  
Sherlock just gave John an annoyed look. 

“Yes, I am very sure. I could never forget the cake our daughter talks about the entire day. Truly, it is hard not to forget. She reminded me 20 times at least and that was only today.”

John’s heart grew about three sizes when he heard Sherlock say “our daughter”. It just meant the world to him that Sherlock considered Rosie to be their daughter. Thinking about it Sherlock and Rosie both meant the world to him and deep in his heart he knew that Mary would be very happy for them. John hadn’t noticed that they had reached a big park and was now wondering what the hell Sherlock wanted to do in a park. At first, he had thought that for a change Sherlock wanted to walk back home to Baker Street but that idea was laughable considering Sherlock Holmes was the person in question. The park was mostly empty, considering it was Saturday afternoon it was just a bit unusual. In the middle of the park was a beautiful fountain and Sherlock was now pulling him towards it. In this moment, John felt extremely suspicious because Sherlock had a look of determination on his face, a look John had never seen on him before. And then it dawned on him, what the reason for Sherlock’s odd behaviour today could be, John barely managed to suppress a squeak as Sherlock Holmes got down on one knee and said:

“You know I am not great with emotions, but John Watson you know I love you dearly. And I am not the best with those romantic speeches people usually give in those situations but I am trying to get better. I may be a genius when it comes to the simple things in life, like solving cases, but I am nothing when it comes to love. So, John Hamish Watson will you marry me?”

John couldn’t control the tears flooding his face anymore, he just melted into Sherlock’s arms and said:

“Yes, you idiot. A thousand times yes!”

 

Epilogue:  
It was Monday morning, Rosie’s birthday and now officially two days since John and Sherlock had been engaged. They hadn’t told Rosie yet because they wanted her to find out on her birthday that her “dads” were soon going to be both officially her dads. Sherlock had gone of to the bakery to get Rosie’s cake and John had decorated the kitchen and laid out Rosie’s presents. While he was tiding the kitchen, he had removed a pair of eyes from the fridge and gotten rid of various other not-kid-friendly stuff. When Sherlock returned, they both snuck into Rosie’s room to wake her up and brought her downstairs into the kitchen. The first present she opened was from Mrs Hudson and it was a Barbie doll dressed as a doctor. Rosie loved it since she wanted to be a doctor, “just like Dad” when she grew up. Her second present was the obnoxiously expensive stuffed creature, John had spent all Saturday morning on finding. Rosie immediately named the creature “Hannibal Lecter”, which concerned John a lot but Sherlock just grinned like a proud father so he decided to let it slide. Her third and final present was a small envelope, which Rosie carefully opened. She pulled out the card and began to read. Yes, Rosie was an incredibly smart now-4-year-old and was also raised by Sherlock Holmes so of course she had learned to read by the age of three. When she finished reading she squeaked the happiest John had ever heard her squeak, stood on the table, hugged both John and Sherlock and dropped the wedding invitation on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please leave some Kudos, comments, bookmarks or check out my other work! I'd really appreciate it :)


End file.
